Luyện nghe bài hát Non-Objective Portrait Of Karma

Ignorance is bliss no woman's failed to mention
and surely some koan suggests leads to perfection'
but the more I my face from the crowd
the more I feel my increasingly compelled
for the sake of escape, to a knife on itself,
a knife of relief, all the petty insight
and finally I'll sleep, sleep through the night.
Bored as on this street corner-cover.
study of a face in a figure. surveying language as a game
of this language as the plague.
the of persistence condemns.
This of karma, crafted in accident
text book seduction, minus the text in the of ghosts
and so we ran, like the wolves biting,
the inhibitions of their prey them from screaming
"scratch my back and I stab you in yours"
so I chose to live this alone, without the teeth marks
but I predict, I'll to sink my fangs in someone else's heart to heal my own.
just a victim's split, one for the wolves, one part for you.
but I'll grow soon, weary of this fractal code,
of this hallway lined with ghosts.
just a upon the skin, a drop of blood to let them in
their words will cause the fracture from a stone's throw
just a scratch upon the skin, a drop of blood to them
parasitic, viral critics, or lovers, like mingling in the mist
that we crafted, a starving jury, let eat shit from our trembling hands.
The heat for heat's sake, on this Barnard of Congress
deductively speaking, the of progress
well I put too much faith in the accident
entranced, we toward the ripest display of escape
let the starving ghosts feats, from this flesh, from bones,
let them all feast. light as a feather, stand back let the starving ghosts In this chess game of language, forced to sit so I play all alone, watch the bathos drift forth like the petals from a wild crafted rose.